


just pretend

by disarmingly



Category: Free!
Genre: M/M, PWP, Public Blow Jobs, after the episode i just had a great need, and by that i mean more than slight, future-ish fic?, i don't even care i just wrote this without thinking, slight mentions of mako/haru
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-08-20
Updated: 2014-08-20
Packaged: 2018-02-14 01:07:39
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,499
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2172150
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/disarmingly/pseuds/disarmingly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>At first he tells him to be quiet, to hold it in.</p><p>“Bite your lip if you have to.”</p><p>He doesn’t want to, knows that won’t be enough, and the brush of fingertips against the skin of his thigh has him keening. </p><p>“K-Kisumi…”</p>
            </blockquote>





	just pretend

**Author's Note:**

> it took me all of maybe three seconds to need this fic, so I wrote it. my poor baby is so in love. :c also kisumi was asking for it with that kind of name so he gets to have some fun too.
> 
> also this episode was everything to me, so makoto is officially a swim coach for babies forever and always, even if this is probably just sometime in college.
> 
> comments and kudos always appreciated ♥

At first he tells him to be quiet, to hold it in.

“Bite your lip if you have to.”

He doesn’t want to, knows that won’t be enough, but the brush of fingertips against the skin of his thigh has him keening.

“K-Kisumi…”

Kisumi grins, a glint in the corner of his eyes that Makoto hasn’t seen since middle school, and presses his nose into the base of Makoto’s cock. “ _Shh_ , Makoto. Someone will hear us.” The rumble of his voice is what brings Makoto to bite down on the soft skin of his lower lip, the sharp pain of it bringing him back.

Makoto’s hands are splayed against the wall behind Kisumi, supporting his weight as Kisumi kneels in front of him; hands on the top of Makoto’s thighs, Makoto’s work pants pooled around his ankles. The air is warm, humid, sticking to Makoto’s skin despite the darkness around them.

He closed the pool an hour ago, assuming he’d spend another Saturday night like he always did –  at home, alone, reading up on the latest news from the Olympics front. It was strange, wondering if there would be news about Haru, about Rin, if he’d see their faces in the paper or on the reruns of that evening’s news.

Kisumi had been waiting for him outside the front door, wanting to talk about his younger brother, to see how his practice had been now that he was starting to swim butterfly as well as backstroke.

Makoto isn’t sure how it happened, or why, but the conversation breached his relationship status, brought up Haru, and before he knew what was going on-

“A- _ah_.” His breath hitches past his teeth, the noise escaping despite his best efforts. They were _outside_ , for god’s sake, and yet all he hears from Kisumi is another chuckle.

“Ma-ko- _to_.” He hums again, kissing his way up Makoto’s cock, brushing his lips against the tip just to watch the taller’s knees shake. “You have to be quiet.”

“I don’t think we should be doing this.” Spills from Makoto’s lips, quickly and almost all at once. He closes his eyes and tries to ignore the buzzing above his head of the light, the bugs attracted to it, of the sounds of night around them. They’re _outside_ , where anyone can see them, never mind the fact they’re doing this _at all_. “If someone finds us, or your girlfriend-”

Another chuckle, and then Makoto’s words are cut off as Kisumi’s mouth slides down around him. Makoto loses any train of thought when the head of his cock bumps into the back of Kisumi’s throat, and he feels the other swallow around him. It’s a wonder he’s still standing, his fingers digging into the concrete of the wall in front of him.

Kisumi seems to notice, lips turning up into a small grin where they’re wrapped around Makoto, before he even starts to move. But it doesn’t take long for that, either, Kisumi starting a slow rhythm, hollowing his cheeks each time he pulls far enough back.

Makoto takes the effort to keep breathing, feeling the tension grow across his shoulders. It feels good, really good, and Makoto suddenly can’t remember the last time he got off.

 He doesn’t even notice when Kisumi pulls back and off of him, the popping noise his mouth makes sending a bright red flush over Makoto’s cheeks and down his neck. He clicks his tongue against his teeth, his hands sliding over the outside of Makoto’s thighs, fingers gripping his ass. Makoto does notice, though, when Kisumi speaks, voice still light. Almost joking.

“You’re too tense.”

Makoto lets out a breath, thankful for a moment to breathe without having to hold himself together. Thankful for the chance to relax without worrying about whether or not he’ll fall apart. It comes out as a sigh, which he almost thinks to apologize for, before he looks down to meet Kisumi’s eyes.

He swallows thickly, controlling his breathing. “I’m sorry, Kisumi, I don’t think this is going to-”

“Think about Haru.”

Makoto freezes, eyes a little wide. “W-what?”

That’s when the grin comes back, breaking over Kisumi’s face like a crack in the earth. It sends a shiver down Makoto’s spine, like it somehow dropped ten degrees, and yet hasn’t changed at all.

“It’s cute, that you think no one noticed.” Kisumi leans forward again, presses a kiss to the jut of Makoto’s hip-bone. Then his naval. “Sad, too, that he’s the only one that didn’t.”

Makoto opens his mouth to argue, to say something that will help. _Why Haru? Why would that work? I’m not in love with my best friend._ But even to him, they felt fake. Wrong.

Something in Makoto’s chest tightens painfully, sharp and hard, and Kisumi sees it happen. Tightens his hands on Makoto’s ass like it’ll take his mind off of it.

“Just close your eyes, Makoto. Pretend I’m Haru. It’ll work.”

He’s looking up at Makoto through his bangs, waiting to see if he’ll pull back. Because he can, he _has_ the ability to end this, stop it here and now and go home to die of embarrassment. He can, but then he blinks and for half a second it’s Haru on his knees in front of him- familiar blue eyes through dark hair.

Makoto’s hand shakes as he pulls it away from the wall, threading his fingers through Kisumi’s hair, and that’s all the approval Kisumi needs. He doesn’t nod, doesn’t smile, just leans back in and guides Makoto’s cock through his lips. Makoto closes his eyes and takes a breath, swiping his tongue over his lower lip.

Everything’s different, then, as Makoto lets himself fall into the fantasy. They’re not outside, but Haru’s house, maybe even the school pool. It’s Haru’s fingers that tighten into the skin of Makoto’s ass, nails just barely biting as he holds and pulls. It’s Haru’s mouth that feels hot, so hot, _too_ hot, where it’s wrapped around Makoto’s cock. Sucking him in and sliding off, picking up the pace of the rhythm, sliding his tongue along the underside and flicking it against the tip.

“ _Haru-_ ” escapes Makoto before he can hold it back, face falling forward so that his forehead rests against his forearm. Kisumi, to his credit, doesn’t stop – humming gently, almost in approval, as he pulls Makoto’s hips closer, guides his hips to jerk a little harder.

 Makoto gives up on trying to keep quiet, each breath coming out as a slight moan, a gasp. His shoulders heave with his breathing, and before he really knows what’s going on his hips are moving with Haru’s ( _Kisumi_ , don’t lose yourself Makoto, not completely-) tugs, jerking back and forward, fucking into his mouth. The tension in his gut builds quickly, and nearly takes him by surprise, his hand tightening in the hair between his fingers.

That must be enough of a warning, though, because the hands on his hips pull him forward and the mouth around him swallows, _hard_. Makoto’s orgasm is all but ripped from him at this point, actually biting down on his arm to keep him from _screaming_. It takes a few more moments before he comes back down, the ringing in his ears too much for him to think through, and by the time he’s back in reality Kisumi has pulled off of him, wiping the corner of his mouth with the back of his hand.

Makoto’s vision is still a little blurry around the edges, his knees weak, but he still feels bad about how he can’t even manage to lean down and help Kisumi up. Can barely keep himself standing as Kisumi stands, grinning again, as he tugs Makoto’s pants back up to his hips. Buttons them up and brushes some of Makoto’s hair off his forehead.

“Kisumi…”

“Ah-“ Kisumi presses his finger to Makoto’s lips, grinning a bit as he leans in to steal a quick kiss when he pulls his finger away. The brief, flickering thought of _is that me_ crosses Makoto’s mind and he turns bright red again, getting a chuckle from Kisumi.

“You finally got into it, huh?”

Makoto’s eyes move off to the side as his hands drop to his sides, more out of embarrassment than anything, and Kisumi dusts off his knees.

“Ah, well, you know my number if you get bored.”

That’s a strange enough comment to pull Makoto’s eyes forward again, brow furrowing. Number? Bored? Did he-?

Kisumi just grins, before sliding his hands into his pockets and walking off a ways before he pauses, looking over his shoulder.

“Until next time, Makoto~”

And then he’s gone, turning the corner and walking off down the dark street, leaving Makoto standing there in the dark.

It’s another moment before Makoto blinks through the shock, another more before it settles in what just happened, what he’s doing, what he just did. His eyes widen into the dark where Kisumi disappeared, mouth open, face bright red.

Next time?

“ _Eh?_ ”


End file.
